Love and Hate
by DontForgetWhereYouGotMe
Summary: Are they really so different? Teenagers who walk the halls of Hogwarts School, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange discover together just how close these two emotions can be.
1. Chapter 1

Bellatrix stalked down the school hallway. She swept past the sun-speckled corridor window without glancing outside, charged past classrooms and students on their way to class or their common rooms, her footsteps clunking through the cobblestoned passages. She was annoyed. Not at a person. At a thought. The same thought had been coming to her all day and she had no idea why. She just wanted it to go away and leave her alone. It was the thought of her sister's marriage. Narcissa, her youngest sister, was betrothed as of last Sunday to Lucius Malfoy, a 6th year Slytherin of impeccable riches and pureblood lineage. Bellatrix did not know why she could not stop thinking about this since it happened. Perhaps it reminded her of her own betrothal; like Narcissa, she had been in her 4th year at Hogwarts when her parents had found her a pureblood wizard to marry. Rudolphus Lestrange was of no special importance to Bellatrix. It was clear that the marriage meant nothing to either of them, especially as Rudolphus had graduated two years ago and the two saw each other seldom more than twice a year. But she had married him, as was the custom, on her sixteenth birthday.

Now it was Narcissa's turn. And Bellatrix grudgingly admitted to herself that Lucius Malfoy was quite a catch. In addition to his roots and his money, he had platinum hair, the consistency of silk, that grew well past his shoulders. His grey eyes were as cracked ice, and his features were pale and pointed.

Bellatrix knew that for all these reasons, she should be happy for her sister. Indeed, she had been one of the prime influences that caused Narcissa to agree to the marriage. But for some reason she could not place, the thought did not sit well in her mind. It was dust that always got stirred up, refusing to stay on the dry earth where it belonged.


	2. Chapter 2

Bellatrix swung her wand relentlessly at her opponent, a lanky 5th year Gryffindor boy with black, shoulder-length hair and a mischievous grin. She had been walking through the courtyard on her way back from herbology when she'd seen a fight break out between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, and, of course, seen her cousin Sirius in the middle of the fracas. Sirius, the ever-potent Gryffindor, striving to prove his worthiness of the house whenever he wasn't pulling jokes on Severus Snape, had inserted himself into the battle and begun defending his housemates. Jumping at the chance to beat her cousin and to win another victory for her house, Bellatrix had gone straight into battle. She was now face-to-face with Sirius, and she let out a wild scream as she sent curses and hexes flying at him. "Blood traitor!" Bellatrix shrieked. She wanted to blow that defiant grin off his face.

But just as she had Sirius barely four inches away from her and was about to hurl a final curse in his direction, a wild-looking girl with short black hair cut straight in between the cousins. Bellatrix stumbled back and raised her head, eyesight red with rage. No one stood between her and her prey. Everyone in this school knew that. This girl needed to be taught that lesson.

But Bellatrix's thoughts were interrupted a stunning spell from Sirius hit her squarely in the chest and sent her soaring backwards until she hit the cobblestone ground with a sickening *crack*. Bellatrix felt a searing, burning pain in her right side and let a scream escape her as she caught dizzy, saturated flickers of her surroundings in her peripheral vision. Everything was getting brighter; she could barely see. Her hearing was fading fast as well. All she sensed was the fiery pain that overtook her right side; it felt like fifty individual needles had been jammed into her ribs and they had all gotten infected and inflamed at once.

She was going numb from the pain; she cackled as her world drew farther away from her, gleeful at her pain. If the amount of pain Sirius had inflicted on her matched his anger, then she had certainly done a fine job in infuriating her cousin. It was with this happy thought that Bellatrix began to let herself sink into darkness.

Until a pair of hands clawing gently at her back pulled her just an inch back into the light. Her world was still white-hot, but she felt herself being raised to a sitting position. Then one of the hands moved from her back to the crook of her knee and she felt herself being lifted into the air. She didn't know who was carrying her, but she hated when anything – the person holding her, where he was taking her – was out of her control, and she feebly struggled against his grip.

It was no use of course. She refused to stop her struggle, but was so exhausted already that these last exertions of energy sent her into the land of unfeeling blackness.


	3. Chapter 3

The hospital wing was bright – sunlight came pouring in through Bellatrix's eyelids, stirring her into consciousness. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and attempted to sit up in bed, but before she could get far a sharp pain in her right side blinded her and caused her to sink back into the pillow. How had she gotten here from the courtyard? Then she remembered. She'd been carried. Just before she lost consciousness.

Bellatrix's thoughts were interrupted by Madame Pomfrey, who had apparently realized Bellatrix was awake and came bustling towards her with a tray of assorted medicines.

Bellatrix attempted to prop herself up on her left elbow, wincing at the pain in her side. "Lay back," Madame Pomfrey instructed gruffly, giving Bellatrix a light push so she fell against her pillow. Madame Pomfrey then placed the tray on the bedside table, causing the various jars and bottles to clank, and pulled out a flask of what looked like some sort of tonic.

"Bone reparation formula," she replied to Bellatrix's stare. She then poured some into a glass and brought it to Bellatrix's lips. The stuff tasted horrible and Bellatrix spit it out immediately.

"Are you trying to kill me?" She asked, her voice dangerously high-pitched. Madame Pomfrey was not one to be soft with patients, but she must have noticed the odd glint in Bellatrix's eyes, for she placed the glass on the bedside table and bustled away with her medicine tray.

Bellatrix slumped back in her pillow, helpless to sit up, and glared furiously at the ceiling. She would get revenge upon Sirius for putting her in this pathetic state. Of that she was certain.

She trained her ear at the door to the hospital wing as she heard it open and close again. Keenly, Bellatrix heard sure-footed steps make their way to the bed where she lay.

"Bellatrix Black," said a tight voice above her. She turned her head to the left just enough to see Lucius Malfoy, her sister's betrothed. His blonde hair was tied back in a low ponytail and he was cloaked elegantly in black.

"Lucius," Bellatrix's high-pitched hiss dared him to explain himself. "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to make sure you were alright after the ordeal in the courtyard," he said. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. He should never dare flirt with or show interest in any woman besides her sister – especially her or Andromeda. "You are, after all, my future sister-in-law," he added.

Bellatrix smiled darkly, knowing he must've sensed her threat.

But her smile flickered. Once again, she felt that uneasiness that stirred in her whenever she thought of her sister's marriage. The feeling that though she tried to be happy for her sister, there was something holding her back. She didn't admit this to herself, but she wished that Lucius had never mentioned the word "sister-in-law." Anything to do with the marriage sent a small wave of sickness through her.

But why?

"Are you alright Bellatrix?" Lucius asked politely. But when Bellatrix looked up at him, she saw a genuine concern in his eyes. His ice-gray eyes.

"Bellatrix?"

"Wha – oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine," Bellatrix said airily. She could not stop staring at his eyes. She didn't know why, but their cracked-ice pattern mesmerized her.

Lucius smirked. "Well then I should probably be going." He turned, breaking her gaze from his eyes.

Bellatrix blinked, as if waking from hypnosis. "Wait!" she called. Lucius turned back.

"Yes?"

She swallowed dryly and opened her mouth, without any idea which words would come out. "My sister will not be betrayed by anyone," she blurted. "You shall not hurt her."

Lucius sat down on Bellatrix's bed and came unexpectedly close to her. He brushed a wild curl of hair out of her face and looked straight into her eyes.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said. She looked at him and swallowed again, unable to move or speak, acutely aware that his hand was lingering near her skin.

Then he turned and left.

Bellatrix slumped back in her bed and shuddered. Her feeling of uneasiness was growing, turning her stomach, shortening her breath and heightening her heart speed. As she closed her eyes and tried to will the odd feeling away, tried to put Lucius and Cissy and everything to do with them out of her mind, a realization struck her.

When she'd given the warning against hurting her sister, she hadn't been talking to Lucius.

She'd been talking to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

It was two days later and Bellatrix was still lying in the hospital wing. She hated this; she wished Madame Pomfrey would just let her leave. But the strict woman would do no such thing until Bellatrix agreed to take the bone-reparation potion.

Which Bellatrix refused to do, insisting that it tasted thoroughly disgusting and made her wretch. Day after day, she demanded a better potion from Madame Pomfrey. Something that didn't taste like a house-elf's bathwater. But the nurse soberly repeated that there was no other suitable tonic for bone-reparation.

And so, Bellatrix lie imprisoned in the hospital wing.

There was an unspoken reason that Bellatrix wouldn't take the tonic. It did disgust her, but Bellatrix didn't flinch much at disgusting things.

The real reason that she wouldn't take the tonic after Madame Pomfrey left it for her on the nightstand was because she couldn't. If she tried to sit up even an inch from her pillow, a blinding, lashing pain shot from her right ribcage up the back of her neck. And she always told Madame Pomfrey to leave it for her; she would not have some woman feeding her like she was a helpless infant.

So she lay there, indignant and immobile.

"You're still here?" Lucius Malfoy's voice startled her.

"Why would you care that I am?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. She was testing him, but he ignored her.

"Madame Pomfrey said it was a simple matter of broken ribs. You should've been out of here by yesterday at the least," he tried to say it casually but Bellatrix heard the concern creeping into his voice. She tried to remind herself: how dare he show concern for her? It was her sister he was supposed to fawn over! But at the back of her mind she felt a tingling and secretly relished the moment his concerned eyes cast over her body.

"Bellatrix?"

She'd been staring at his eyes again. She cleared her throat weakly and focused on his inquiry. "I, em, haven't taken the healing potion," her cheeks flushed. What was this – was she feeling ashamed? She never felt ashamed.

Lucius raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened slightly. "Why not?"

At this, Bellatrix turned her face away from him. She could feel him scrutinizing her; she hoped he didn't notice the way she winced when she even moved her head, the way she tensed up and her breathing quickened in anticipation of the pain.

He did notice.

"You can't, can you?"

"Ahem," she faintly cleared her throat again, "what?"

She saw the question in his eyes change to pity. This angered her. But there was also a hint of … amusement? This angered her even more.

Lucius chuckled softly. "What are you laughing at?" Bellatrix snapped. "Is my poor state of well-being amusing to you?"

Lucius shook his head, leaned closer to her and brushed a wild curl out of her eye like he had last time. Bellatrix smirked. No one could tame her curls, try as they might. His efforts were in vain.

"No," Lucius breathed quietly. Their faces were close; Bellatrix could feel his presence, heat on her cheeks, even as her eyes fluttered closed. "I'm amused by your indignation; your stubbornness."

"Most people fear it," Bellatrix whispered. She gulped. She hadn't meant to be that quiet.

When Lucius spoke again, she felt his hot breath close to her ear and the back of her neck. "You mean most people fear you."

Bellatrix didn't answer. She didn't have to. They both knew it was true.

"And you love that they do," Lucius continued. They sat in silence for a moment. "I don't fear you," he whispered.

Bellatrix opened her eyes, to find his ice-blue ones staring back at her. She found in his eyes what she was sure her own reflected; guilt.

"About that," he nodded towards the potion. Trying to change the subject. "You should drink it."

"Hmph," she pouted, her eyes downcast, the corners of her mouth turning down. "It tastes like Mud Blood."

She looked back up and saw a smirk on his face. She'd known him long enough to know that a smirk on the face of a Malfoy could never be good. All regret for the moment they'd just had flew out the window.

"What are you doing?" She asked in her pitchy voice.

He said nothing, but his smirk widened. She watched as he slowly picked the bottle of tonic up from the table. His movements were mesmerizing, as was his entire body. She could see individual strands of his long, blonde hair. She saw each feature of his pale, pointed face. She didn't even notice that he was raising the bottle of tonic to her lips until she tasted it on her tongue. The horrible taste jolted her back to awareness and she tried to move away or knock the bottle out of his hand, but any movement hurt too much. He snickered, amused at her helpless reaction and nose crinkled in disgust.

"Come now," Lucius smirked crookedly, "if you don't take the potion you won't be well for your sister's wedding."

The thought of the wedding made Bellatrix's blood boil. She opened her mouth to express that she did not give a damn about a bloody wedding and Lucius launched, pouring the liquid down her throat before she had a chance to retaliate.

Lucius sat back, smirking as Bellatrix coughed at the taste. Once she regained her composure, she looked at Lucius with the wide eyes that scared so many. Lucius didn't look scared. In fact, he looked increasingly pleased with her reaction. This only increased Bellatrix's anger and she rashly raised her fist in an attempt to punch Lucius, a good old form of violence that was at times much more satisfying than magical torture. But before her fist reached his face, splintering pain shot once again through her right side and she contracted, letting out a yelp of pain.

Lucius, looking mildly concerned, took Bellatrix and laid her back down on the bed. She was curled up in a ball from the pain, her arms and head scrunched close to each other. He gently took her right arm and ran his hand down it, relaxing it. He then did the same for her left arm. Bellatrix instinctively wanted to react ("How dare you touch me?! You are my sister's fiance!") but found herself at a loss for words. His touch was soothing – something she needed at the moment. She just let him uncoil her, let him push her shoulders down, push her head back so her neck was exposed. Again, his hands lingered at the nape of her neck before he pulled away and cleared his throat.

"There," he said quietly. Bellatrix detected a shaky hint in his voice. He seemed – somewhat frightened. But not of her. She knew what he was frightened of. He was frightened of the same thing that made her stomach tie in knots when he touched her. The same thing that told her it was wrong to feel the anger she did when she thought about his wedding. His wedding to _her sister_, she reminded herself. She closed her eyes. No. This could not happen.

"Go," she said quietly, in a way that was not at all characteristic of her. Her voice carried the same shaky note as his. She did not open her eyes but she knew he was thinking. He knew she was right. She felt his weight lift off the bed and let out a slight moan of loss as she heard his footsteps get quieter. Bellatrix turned her head to the side and let the rays of the setting sun warm her as she drifted into a haze, a place between dreams and waking, a place where many thoughts swam through her mind that contained so many emotions at once that they frightened her more than she, the fearless Bellatrix, had thought possible.


End file.
